


i find ways to breathe

by trusteachother



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 04:54:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15678435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trusteachother/pseuds/trusteachother
Summary: It’s not like they’re doing something wrong.





	i find ways to breathe

**Author's Note:**

> will i ever stop writing sappy drabbles for my marvel ships? title from the poem 'pinkwashing haikus' by fargo tbakhi.

* * *

“Do you suppose Vision sleeps?”, Steve asks.

 

Her fingers roaming through his hair stop abruptly. Vision hasn’t been to her room anymore, now that she thinks of it, not since Steve staying the night had become a routine. She rolls her eyes; of course, it takes another man for him to stop passing through the walls.

 

“I think he just rests, like when you put a computer in sleep mode.”

 

She bites her tongue. A computer is cold and unfeeling and Vision is neither.

 

Wanda’s fingers find a single, thick, grey hair and she remembers this man is ninety-seven years old. She watches the strand of hair change colours with the last light of day.

 

Steve catches her wrist when she's reached his nape. “Should we have dinner? Are you hungry?”

 

“Are _you_?”

 

Steve is not the man to take, to impose or to force. Sometimes he’s too good for his own sake. It’s not a simple metaphor when he says he would let people walk all over him.

 

“Not really. I'd rather stay in bed until morning.” Wanda can _hear_ the smile on his face, but she knows he’s serious.

 

“Then get in bed.”

 

“I’m in bed.”

 

“Steve.”

 

He has never got under the covers (ever the gentleman), even though winter is just around the corner and the nights are growing steadily colder.

 

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

 

“Who invited you here in the first place?”

 

It’s shaky, she knows, for it’s unclear how this whole ordeal began. A nightmare from either one of them, so vivid that they couldn't sleep for days. At least, she chooses to think that. It’s more understandable, for her and anyone that may ask, than a half-assed excuse and a desperate nod. The thought soothes her mind when she wakes up holding Steve.

 

It’s not like they’re doing something wrong.

 

Sokovia's in ruins.

 

Pietro's dead.

 

Somehow, her happiness would be like mocking them.

 

Tonight, she will.

 

Steve _actually_ gets in bed. It takes a few minutes, but he cradles her against his chest. His body shape is different than her brother’s. His smell, the way he styles his hair, the clothes he wears. It’s not better or worse, just different. Distinct. Steve.

 

He kisses her forehead, whispers: “Good night, Wanda.”

 

Yes, the tingles she feels are entirely different.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr @ scarletfrostt!


End file.
